


Where there's a will there's a way

by Lurkete



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alex is a superhero, Alternate Universe, But it takes a while, F/F, Kalex, Kara is still there, Krypton didn't blow up, Origin Story, Slow Burn, but they are not sisters, they still meet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-19 08:02:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10635675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lurkete/pseuds/Lurkete
Summary: Krypton never exploded.On earth, Dr. Dr. Alexandra Danvers finds herself the owner of a peculiar artifact and is promptly thrusted into an intergalactic investigation involving Space Detectives, Slave Traders, Politicians, Heroes, Villains, and one Kara Zor-El, High Judicator and Scion to the House of El.





	1. The drowning of Dr. Alexandra Danvers

Dr. Dr. Alexandra “Alex” Danvers was always told her willful attitude would eventually get her in trouble.

 _Well boy, trouble doesn’t even cut it_ , she thinks as her life literally flashes before her eyes…

 

Said attitude started at the womb (or so Eliza likes to joke) with Alex’s complete disregard for her mother’s sleeping cycle and continued after birth with the toddler’s refusal of help on any matter - from putting the blocks back in their box, to holding her spoon while she eats, putting shoes on, reading. Alex wanted to do it herself, to try, fail, decide, choose.

It made for an incredibly self-sufficient and impressive child, also, a bit of a lonely one her father would gently point out.

Her contrariness used to drive her parents up the wall; she’d be told to do something in a certain way and would do it in a completely different manner out of pure spite, usually to better results…  
Her mother would get cross, her dad found it hilarious.

 

Alex’s looks down at the little imperfection between her thumb and forefinger while the plane starts to shake. Her body is littered with small childhood scars from her numerous adventures of climbing up dangerous places, taking apart electrical appliances, building go-carts of various propulsions, and assorted other activities whose common denominator was their propensity for giving her mother grey hairs.

She excelled at everything, school, soccer, karate, mathletes, she had good standing at her high school in a distant sort of way; she was too attractive, too sporty, and too smart to be otherwise.  Winning a bunch of surfing trophies helped as well.

She finished high school two years ahead of schedule and when it was time to choose a higher academic path she had deliberated between studying bio-engineering like her mother over at M.I.T, or becoming an M.D. with a focus on research like her dad up at the UW.

And while Alex and her mother had always clashed on matters of opinion and choice, it was her father that sparked one of the biggest (and longest) acts of willfulness in her life - when he heavily hinted that she couldn’t possibly study both, so of course she decided to do so anyway.

 

Alex tries to calm the man sitting two seats from her while a part of her remains alarmed at the steep loss of altitude their plane is experiencing, the man's child is in the seat right next to hers and for the kid’s sake she is trying to sooth his hyperventilating father.

She fixes the airbag over the toddler's face after she's done with the father. _Cute kid_ she thinks before her mind wonders off again to years yonder.

 

Studying medicine in Seattle while taking online courses at M.I.T was insane, she had no life to speak of. Any formal vacation time was spent flying over to Massachusetts to take exams, defend her thesis, or any other action that could not be completed online. It was an intense period in her life; she only succeeded because of her brilliance, her eidetic memory, and her aforementioned sheer force of will.

A year into her residency at Seattle Grace Hospital “Supers” started appearing on the scene - as well as a whole host of other weirdos.

It was around that time she finished _summa cum laude_ at M.I.T, her thesis focusing on classifying genetic mutations on humans.

 

The inside of the plane is chaotic, she looks outside and has a clear view of the engine engulfed in flames. The man next to her is crying, his child is oddly quiet, turning his big doe eyes on Alex. Her thoughts are fuzzy, detached - _probably shock,_  she ascertains. There is very little chance they will survive this, maybe that’s why her mind is oddly insistent on reminiscing about the past…

 

As a brilliant and relatively renowned bio-engineer, as well as a budding Medical Doctor, she caught the eye the Army, then the F.B.I, and eventually other clandestine government acronyms who in turn requested her consultant on increasingly bizarre cases.

It was a scheduling miracle that allowed her to finish her residency, what with how frequently she was whisked away in the middle of the night to give the D.E.O her opinion on this weird isotope or that new organic compound.

When her residency was indeed over she trekked down to Midvale - malnourished, sleep deprived, and with about 14 years of flings and unsubstantial relationships under her belt - just to wave her double doctorates under her parents’ noses and go “ha!”

Her Dad chuckled and her mother murmured about maybe finally having some time to think about children.

 

Her Dad died.

She stayed up north while her mother grieved. They didn’t get along anyway, not without her father to buffer between their strong personalities.

She spiraled into anger, alcohol, dangerous sex, drugs; she was close to losing her medical license when Director Henshaw, the head of the D.E.O at National City, asked her to join his team officially.

She refused.

He insisted.

They settled on her being a free contractor.

 

The move to National City was less painful than she thought it would be; Alex did not like to dwell on why that was, or how pathetic the two and a half boxes containing all of her worldly possessions looked in the back of her car.

One painful year of field training at the D.E.O gave her clarity and purpose, and for the first time in her life - a small group of people she could carefully label as friends.

 _Well, only Vasquez really, Lucy and Hank where technically her superiors_ \- but it was the closest she’d ever gotten to a semi-normative social group.

All that didn’t stop her from taking risks and being brilliant. There was a D.E.O-wide poll on when she’d finally give Director Henshaw a heart attack.

 _This one might actually do the trick_ , she thinks.

She wasn’t supposed to be on this flight, it’s just that she had a hunch about a scientist in Geneva that might turn out to be the best lead on their current investigation; she knew if they sent a generic stiff from the Swiss Embassy he’d botch the interview.  
  
She told Pam in HR to book her the flight and begged her to give her a 2-hour head start before she informed the Director. If she survived this, Hank was going to ground her for forever.

 

The pilot has managed to parallel the plane with the bay water below, they are maybe 100 ft. above the surface but the plane is rocketing much too fast. Alex’s gifted mind quickly calculates that they have 36 second before the plane hits the water, tips forward, and gets completely pulverized.

She starts counting down.

 

Seconds 1 through 4 are spent yanking her seat belt off, the neighboring kid's seat belt off, and then grabbing the child (because this was a longshot as it is, and fuck if she's not going to try and save at least one more person).

Seconds 5-12 are spent lashing the kid to her chest as best she can with the straps of the life vest from under her seat.

Second 13 she clips the carabiner she always keeps on her bag to one of the longer straps of the life vest.

Seconds 14-31 are spent trying to execute a mad dash to the emergency exit while avoiding falling luggage, insane turbulences, and the child reaching and screaming for his father over her shoulder.

Second 32 she takes to prepare herself – this needs to be timed perfectly.

Second 33 she opens the door, the emergency raft gets automatically inflated.

Second 33.2 she hurls her carabiner and it miraculously gets hooked to the rope circumferencing the emergency raft.

Second 33.27 they get yanked by the raft so hard that Alex can feel most of her ribs getting crushed by the pull on her life vest, she hopes the kid is still alive. They actually get yanked upwards in the beginning.

Second 36 - the raft is still cartwheeling through the air. The plane crashes into the water ahead of them in an enormous ball of fire. Alex can feel the skin on her face and torso burning off from the heat and the air-friction.

She stops counting when she momentarily losses consciousness when the raft hits the water with a terrible, terrible thud.

She wakes up shortly after to the feeling of water running up her nose. One of her eyes is swollen shut, her head is alarmingly painful and slow, and her mouth is full of blood. They are in the water next to the craft, the strap with the carabiner is still attached to the raft and is currently the only thing keeping them from sinking.

The kid's head is nearly submerged. Alex tries to pull them up into the raft but she is so goddamn tired.

She has to do something soon, their leash is keeping them tethered to the craft but it is long enough that when she loses her consciousness again they will surely drown.

She can barely see, barely breath, she can’t feel her legs, and it feels like her left shoulder is completely out of its socket.

Suddenly the kid starts coughing up water, Alex is so happy he’s not dead. She thanks whoever is listening that she got one last positive feeling before she dies.

Alex attempts to hull herself up once again and nearly faints with the effort. She won’t be able to pull herself into the raft, but by god and all things holy, the kid’s going to get a fighting chance.

With the very last of her strength, Alex somehow manages to untie herself and the child from the vest and push the little body over the lip of the raft. Hopefully a rescue team will be here soon, however it is too late for her.

She can feel her grip on side of the boat slackening. If she could just stay awake maybe she could keep on holding, keep on trying; however the damage to her cranium is sever, she is exhibiting all the signs of a colossal head trauma.

Slowly, painfully, Alex lets go…

 

* * *

 

She is sinking, her body is weightless and full of pain. Everything is blissfully quiet.

 

Darker and darker it gets the further she goes down. What little oxygen she has left in her bloodstream is being depleted.

She starts hallucinating.

 

Bellow her, the seabed is comprised of sand, and silence, and the odd silhouette of a vaguely humanoid corpse.

She can barely see as it is, but something about the cadaver beckons her - a sharp green light on the thing's hand. She lets gravity pull her towards the body.

 

By the time she reaches it she’s all but drowned, the body is freezing cold but the green light is oddly warn.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's see where this goes.


	2. The sad savior of Krypton

The red light of Rao shines from the high windows, sickly pale pink–almost grey–shafts crisscross the emptying space.

Kara watches as the last Daxamite delegation member exits the great hall.

She sighs.

Beside her Kelex twitches and cants its head sideways.

 

"You can't go on with this!" Kara hears from her left. "I won't allow it!"

Kara sighs once more and turns to the unexpected source of ire.

"Aunt Astra, where you here for the entire meeting?"

Astra moves from behind one of the behemoth pillars supporting the dome of the great hall of El.

"They are kidnappers and murderers! Do you know what that brute will do to you? Do you?" her aunt approaches her, the heels of her military boots echoing on the marble floor. Her disposition is rattled and beseeching. "Kara, look at me!"

"This is the only way!" Kara's shout booms in the empty hall as she scrunches her eyes shut.

Astra freezes, shocked into immobility. Kara has not risen her voice–not once–in nearly 36 years, ever since she had to judge her parents into the phantom zone, ever since she orphaned herself, ever since the light had gone out of her eyes and out of her heart.

"He's all I have left, Astra," Kara says as her eyes start glossing over from unshed tears, once again she is quiet and demure. "This marriage will ensure the end to this accursed war and secure his release."

" _i ukiem_ ," Astra cups her niece's cheeks, "this is too much. You are not expected to shoulder the safety of our entire people on your shoulders."

Kara turns her face away, removing herself from her aunt's comfort.

"I need to bring him back. Kal El is my responsibility, who knows what they are doing to him," she whispers in resignation.

"Marrying the prince of Daxam is not the solution!" Astra yells, her façade of calm shattered. "He is a monster, Kara!"

She grabs Kara's wrist. "You know how they are! He will rape you every night! He will beat you to death, slowly, for fun!"

Kara pulls her hand free and turns away.

"Let me help you," Astra grabs Kara's shoulders, her voice forcefully amicable once more. "I will assemble a small team, we will retrieve Kal El."

"And what of the war?" Kara asks, her back still turned. "I have a chance to end so much death, so much pain. What is the sacrifice of one life in the face of so much gain?"

After a pregnant pause Kara turns to look at her Aunt. Astra's stance is stiff with acrimony, her fists bunched at her sides.

"The ceremony will take place in exactly one year. Please aunt Astra, don't make this more difficult than it already is.

Astra stairs at Kara, her mouth a tense straight line. She blinks and then simply turns around and leaves.

 

Kara looks sadly on as her possibly-last remaining blood relative leaves the chamber of her namesake.

"May I have your leave lady Kara?" Kelex asks her softly.

Kara nods and the robot hurriedly floats after the retreating general.

She feels her ever present tiredness double in its weight - acutely, physically, like a rock she has been carrying on her back since her parents' sentencing.

She misses them.

 

Nobody was to blame really, they did what they thought was right.

After ions of staunch isolationism and genetic dogma, the high council of Krypton truly believed that no one on Krypton could find an effective and timely solution to their plant's eminent destruction, and in a way they were right. It was decided therefore to hide the truth; death would come to their world swiftly and as painlessly as possible.

Kara shudders as she remembers the night of the revolution. She was hastily awakened by her aunt in the middle of the night and smuggled out of their fortress at Argo city. She remembered the fear, the urgency, and the subliminal panic coming off the general like waves. Astra would not answer any of her questions, only repeatedly promising that _this was for the best_.

"This" turning out to be Non and a group of radical insurgents taking over Krypton's central communications hub. "This" turning out to be most of the hub's workers as well as all of the insurgents dying in the skirmish, including Non.

350 corpses total.

It was a success.

Before their demise, the insurgents managed to transmit a planet-wide message consisting of the stolen academic papers of Lara and Jor-El of the house of El; in them the two scientists foretell Krypton's destruction due to pressure build-up in the planet's uranium core; as well as the council's cover-up.

The broadcast was a fast track to complete planetary anarchy.

 

It was a humbling cultural blow that her people were still reeling from to this day–the knowledge that for all their advancement and progress, for all their emotional disconnection and control–their entire social structure had collapsed when faced with the seemingly inevitability of death.

The situation looked bleak. Chaos, panic, and rioting were rampant on a global scale.

A new council was swiftly elected but the people demanded a scape goat…

Thus Kara, at the tender age of 13, found herself heading a small conglomerate of novice judicators.

Under the watchful and incensed eye of her entire planet she judged her mother, father, paternal aunt and uncle, as well as 36 other High Council members to The Zone.

She had no choice, even without the ire of her people the outcome was unavoidable.

 

Krypton, however, was still dying.

All eyes were turned to Kara and the new council.

It was there that the leader emerged from the child. Still reeling from the self-inflicted loss of her parents, Kara convinced the rest of her young associates to center their efforts on PR and propaganda campaigns aimed at calming the civic unrest, meanwhile she secretly assembled the top operators from the most shadowy branches of the Kryptonian Warrior Cast.

It was in this very hall that she gave an order that was unheard of in millennia of Kryptonian culture:

"Seek help from others," she demanded, "I don't care for the details, just make it happen."

The seven grim faces of Krypton's most dangerous and capable warriors had looked quietly upon the child-judicator, her aunt Astra among them.

"We Kryptonians like to think ourselves as a superior people," she remembers telling them, her voice had been shaking with faked bravado, "but our xenophobia and pride has stagnated our growth and will shortly doom us all. We do not have the luxury of hubris any longer."

"Go forth," she implored them, "you have my leave and that of the council's. We will try to hold our planet together while you bring back assistance."

They bowed to her, she knew they would, like all Kryptonian citizens they were genetically engineered to be logical and loyal, but these shadow-agents were also infused with the ability to skirt the boundaries of social property and cultural taboos – a personality traits deemed necessary to their predetermined civic function.

And so they crossed the age-old boundaries. And so they flew to the stars.

 

All but one died beyond the borders of Krypton's domain, all but one had failed; but one is all it takes, or perhaps two as the case may be.

General Astra In-Ze had returned with an oddly looking beaked creature by the name of Tomar-Re. Wounded and blind, the being was already on his way to help when general In-Ze found him floating helplessly in space. She fished him into her ship, and with him his stockpile of stellarium – a rare compound that could absorb some of the tectonic pressures of the collapsing Krypton.

On their landing, Kara immediately put the whole of the Scientific Cast to work on the stellarium absorption project.

 

The world was saved.  

Tomar-Re left without any fanfare, claiming that the political situation on Krypton was shaky enough without challenging thousands of years of isolationist doctrine.

Kara was hailed a savior, a genius, a leader amount leaders; a label she loathed from the very bottom of her heart.

A label that her aunt insisted she deserved.

"I would never think to seek out help from beyond the stars," she told the weeping child when it was all over and done. "I would never be so brave to even think it," she said with absolute candor. "Maybe it is your youth that allowed for such an innovative decision, maybe is your natural intellect, but I think it is your heart my dear child. You are special Kara Zor-El."

 

 _What a lie_ , Kara thinks, _what a terrible lie_.

She is an imposter, a faker. 36 years as the unofficial leader of The Council and she is still fumbling her way through most days.

How can they not see? How have they not caught on to the fact that most of her successes are due to sheer dumb luck and the occasional kind word thrown in at an opportune moment?

It doesn't matter, nothing matters, she will wed the Daxamite, she will free Kal-El, she will secure the peace treaty, and then…well, and then it really doesn't matter.

 

* * *

"You are leaving." Kelex says.

General Astra spins around and nearly slices the automaton in half with her sword. Why did they give house servants the ability to hover? Damn sneaky things.

"Go away Kelex, that is an order," Astra mutters, turning back to the ship she is preparing.

"Kal-El, will not be enough," Kelex says.

"Go awwwway."

"She is of bonding age next year, if it is not with the prince of Daxam, Matricomp will still force her to wed some nameless Kryptonian patrician. In her mind the Daxamite at least gives her a valid excuse to go forth with her plan, but I fear she will enact it even without him."

"Kelex," Astra stops her tinkering with an eye roll and a huff, "what are you talking about?"

Kelex pauses.

"Lady Kara does not wish to live."

 

* * *

 

Alex wakes up to the sight of a familiar ceiling. She is in the D.E.O hospital.

 _How is this possible?_ She’s never been more amazed in her life - and with 5 years of D.E.O contract work that’s saying something.

“You are surprised,” she hears Hank’s familiar rumble from her left, she can’t look at him since it seems she is ensconced in a full body cast.

He leans over her so she can see his face, Alex prepares herself for an epic dressing-down but Hank remains silent.

 _This is even worse,_ she thinks, _he's not angry, he’s disappointed._  

She tries to open her mouth to speak but nothing comes out.

“You’ve been in a medically induced coma for the past 20 days,” Hank informs her. “Your voice might not be up to par.”

She nods minutely, it’s the most she can do for now

“It’s going to be at least half a year of recovery Alex,” he sighs, “and that’s with the most advanced medicine this planet has to offer.”

Alex blinks in resignation.

“We’re investigating what happened. Yes, foul play was involved. Yes, you are the only one that survived.”

Alex’s eyes jump to Hank’s, her heart monitor starts beeping faster.

Hank gently cups her cheek, “I’m sorry Alex the boy you saved, Oliver Greenburg, died at the hospital from complications due to crush injuries and rhabdomyolysis,” Hank says sadly. “You did everything you could - at least his last moments where made bearable through medication and being surrounded by his mother and siblings.

Alex’s eyes spill over silently.

“Rest now.” Hank gently covers the cast over her shoulder with his hand, “and Alex, please, please try not to scare me like that again.”

 

* * *

 

It takes another month before Alex’s physician decides that they can start sawing off bits of her cast.

Alex is a terrible patient (as Doctors are wont to be), she is cranky, bored, in pain, and a better doctor than most of her caretakers - a fact she is not shy to proclaim to anyone who’s willing to listen.

Just about the only people who can deal with her are Hank and Vasquez, the later whom has threatened  to call Alex’s mother if she refused to play nice.

 

 

“Ready for the big day?” Susan says cheerfully from her seat next to Alex. “I can hold your hand if you’re scared.”

“Fuck off, Vasquez,” Alex shoots back, “in less than an hour I’ll have 38 percent of my body’s mobility back. That’s more than enough to kick your ass.”

“Sure thing champ,” Susan tickles Alex’s nose.

“Asshole!”

Susan laughs. “You’re lucky the government thinks your research is so valuable. You’ve had about 2-million dollars’ worth of experimental drugs pumped into your system for the last several weeks.” Susan shakes her head, “it worked too, I’m still amazed your brain wasn’t reduced to the intelligence of a house plant,” she jokes.

“Me too,” Alex whispers somberly. 

“Hey, none of that. No survivor’s guilt for you. You’re a damn legend, Danvers–even before this stunt–if anyone could get out of that situation it’s you,” Susan says earnestly.

“I didn’t though. I drowned Susan, I’m sure of it. I reached the bottom of the bay.”

“You’ve said that before, but Alex, I promise you, we found you on the raft hugging Oliver.”

Alex frowns.

 

Vasquez leaves shortly after. A few minutes later Hank, Dr. Wan, and two nurses enter the room.

“What are you doing here, sir?” Alex asks curiously.

“I see you’ve sent Vasquez away.”

Alex sighs. “It's okay sir, they’re just taking off parts of my casts.”

“Humor me.”

Alex rolls her eyes.

  
The process takes a full hour and then some. Every piece of plaster that gets removes reveals more and more of her damaged and atrophied body. It’s hard to watch.

She’s glad Hank insisted on staying, he had put his warm palm on her shoulder the minute it was uncovered. The point of contact grounds her.

She has lost a lot of muscle mass from staying immobile for so long; her left shoulder and arm are pasty white and feel like noodles; her torso is still black and blue, the bruises too deep to heal even after all this time; the burns on her face, neck, and upper chest got skin grafted and the experimental drugs really did their work, but the entire area still looks agitated and raw.

All in all she looks like shit.

“You’re still alive Dr. Danvers, all the rest can be replenished with time,” Hank says.

Sometimes Alex swears he can read her mind.

“Well, we only have your left hand to finish Dr. Danvers, we’ll do your right leg and left shin in two days,” Dr. Wan sounds entirely too cheerful for her taste. Hank squeezes her shoulder.

She’s about to open her mouth to try and convince her overprotective boss to slip her a laptop and some case studies–now that she can sit up and move her hands–when Hank cuts her off.

“What’s that?” he asks urgently.

They all look at Alex’s newly revealed hand.

Alex eyebrows slowly rise at what she sees.

“Oh, we couldn’t take it off no matter what we tried,” Dr. Wan apologizes, “and we had to cast you up pronto. You sustained sever spinal trauma.”

Alex can’t breathe.

“Don’t worry Dr. Danvers,” Dr. Wan continue apologizing, “the medication we gave you has swelling reduction properties so I was sure there was no chance of necrosis…” 

Dr. Wan continues rattling off his medical explanation, but Alex can’t hear him over the drumming in her ears. Her vision is tunneled to see only her ring finger.

She remembers that shade of green, calling her, beckoning, beckoning – _like a lantern in the storm_.

“You’re more accurate than you think.” Hanks voice rips her from her excogitation.

She looks at him, he looks concerned and also…proud?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-Beta'ed I apologize.  
> and on that note, does anyone feel like going over my stuff before I post it?  
> English is not my first language and I know that I sometimes make weird spelling and syntax mistakes.  
> Cheers,  
> Lurkete.


End file.
